


The Wall

by Aonashe



Series: The Wall [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Parents, Depression, Education system is fucked up, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Instability, Nazi Germany, Overprotective mother, Past Child Abuse, Psychosis, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Warnings May Change, explosive anger, pink floyd - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 21:44:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18396950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aonashe/pseuds/Aonashe
Summary: Horrible pasts can make people do horrible things, Hitler is a prime example of this. Due to inspiration from Pink Floyd's "The Wall", I will illustrate this point from the beginning of Hitler's life to it's end.





	The Wall

**Author's Note:**

> \---DISCLAIMER, READ BEFORE CONTINUING--- 
> 
> I am in no way trying to sympathize with Hitler. I just want to illustrate how and why he started World War II and how his obliterated mental state was at the time. I'm in no way saying "Man, wasn't he a great person?" because he wasn't. But, there is always a reason for doing horrible things like that, and I want to illustrate this reason. 
> 
> Also huge trigger warnings for this work. If you are sensitive to depression, psychosis, suicide, and abuse please don't read. Thank you.  
> Now onto the work :)  
> (Chapter titles and homages go to Pink Floyd's "The Wall".)

What is a fortress of a higher power supposed to look like? A grand, luxurious place high up in the mountain tops? Or maybe even behind a waterfall? However, this is not the case for the Fuhrer of Germany, Adolf Hitler. An underground slab of concrete may be the best way to describe that. 

He sat in a bunker right in the center of the fallen Berlin, a last-stitch effort at protecting his party. The Fuhrer of Germany, who was supposedly brought up as this nationalistic almost god-like being, sat in his bunker with his tie loosened and his blazer off, staring at the wall. His left hand shook against the arm of his chair. Nobody outside of the Fuhrer bunker knew about his Parkinson's disease, since he always shoved his hand in his pocket. It was almost like he could feel his health rapidly deteriorating along with the walls he had so delicately built throughout his whole life, his country along with it. Berlin was completely obliterated and on the verge of capture from the Soviets. Thanks to them, all he could see when he stepped outside the bunker for even just a second was red. 

 _Soviets_. Just the mere word made him want to explode into a fiery rage. Though, he didn't have the energy to start on a rampage, so he just continued to stare at the wall in front of him until all feeling seeped out of the cracks in his mind. 

It felt like a never ending eternity of staring, while dark thoughts circled and darted around in his mind. The whispers from within him screamed, cried, and pounded at him, filling his head with a never ending sense of misery and hopelessness, which made it's way into his cold and dead eyes. Though he didn't move, he didn't shout or cry out of anger or sadness, he just sat there, staring into the void. 

Suddenly, a pounding noise and sound vibrated throughout his whole body. An actual emotion slipped into his eyes this time, terror. The pounding became incessant over time, growing louder and louder with each second that passed. He could see the bricks from his wall crashing down around him, shattering around him in a circle as he shrieked internally. The vibrations of the pounding felt like a man trying to kick down a door, but with a deadbolt in his way. 

He coiled up and collapsed on the floor, clutching his hair in his hands as he rocked back and forth to try and quiet the pounding and shattering.

 _"Crazy! Over the rainbow, he is crazy!"_ The voices shouted and mocked him in chorus. 

"STOP!" He shouted into the void of noises, though he was immediately muffled by them.

The pounding noises continued as he still kept shrieking into the void, until it suddenly came to a stop, plunging him into silence. He snapped up and found himself sitting in his chair again, the volume of the room equivalent to the sound of a pin drop, despite the ringing in his ears brought upon him by the episode. Looking down, he realized that his hands were clutching the arms of his chair for dear life. Though he couldn't hear it, he could certainly also feel his chest heaving desperately. 

When the ringing in his ears finally stopped, he realized that someone was knocking upon his chamber door. Still shaken by the experience, he hesitantly walked up to the steel door and opened it just enough to see who was on the other side. He was faced with a Major, who's name he embarrassingly forgot. "Ja?" 

"Mein Fuhrer," The Major answered. "The tactical meeting for Steiner's assault is in session. You are ten minutes late, the generals are getting impatient." 

Adolf restrained an eye-roll at that. Let them wait, for God's sake. "Alright, just give me a moment." Without even giving the Major a chance to reply, he shut the door in front of him with a "click". 

He returned to his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose, his left hand was shakier than usual. The wall wasn't broken anymore. Of course, now that the horrific episode was over, he longed to see the wall crumble again. To see freedom again, even if it was only just once. 

Right at that moment, he thought that he saw a fleeting glimpse right out of the corner of his eye. Curiously, he turned to look in the same direction and he swore that he saw a pure white butterfly shape there. He didn't even have to get a full glimpse of it to know that it was definitely there, he could feel its aura. Just from that little notion, he felt some of his faith in his situation being restored. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt the corners of his mouth perk up into a slight smile. He could have faith in Steiner now, yes. He couldn't save himself, but he could try to save his country.

With that, he got up, tied his tie and slipped on his blazer. He went over to the steel door and budged it open, his left hand shaking as he straightened his tie. In his eyes, for the first time, was a slight sign of vibrancy that hadn't been there since god knows how long, though they were still icy. If anyone wanted to find out what was behind those cold eyes, they'd have to blow through that disguise.  


End file.
